A Poolian Tragedy
by Souryapool
Summary: The epic "God and the Pool" crossover, where Deadpool must travel between different fictional universes to fix an inter-dimensional instability that threatens to destroy Literature itself
1. A Poolian Tragedy, Act I

Chapter 1

In which finds himself troubled by the state of the world and hires a certain DickHead mercenary for reasons as unfathomable as this little piece of shit story-thing.

Mr. LambPoop says, the world is gonna end, in fire and BrimStone, and them Wall Street types be only speedin' up the process.

Mr. ChickenShit is having his evening beer in the little establishment for depressed gentlemen a few blocks from his hovel known, not so subtly, as "the Hanging Man", drowning the sorrows of the ChickenShit family life in a brew that, for lack of a better name, is called "Beer", as if that wasn't evident from the first six words of this astonishingly redundant sentence, when Mr. LambPoop deems it necessary and appropiate to provide him with this piece of what can only be called World-Shattering news.

Incase you haven't figured it out already, and since the collective IQ of you lot can be no more than, say, 3 (at a liberal estimate), you probably haven't, this is what deeply troubles 's little peabrain sized, well, brain.

So downs his beer, punches in the face, mangles his teeth and breaks his nose and gouges out his eyes and tears off his ears and spits on his face, throws a sad looking dime at the corner where Jesus is having a beer with Satan for no apparent or actual reason than to prolong this little piece of poop so that it doesn't look like the first chapter is too short and the narrator was out of ideas, goes back home, looks up pest-control on the phonebook, and, well, what do you figure he does then? Makes a ditty explaining the meaning of life and transporting the listener to a plane of utter philosophical ecstasy and transcendental music out of the phone number? Isn't this story already redundant enough without me having to tell you what he does with the goddam phone-number?

I'll just give you the number. In case you need it someday. You will, once you finish this. So this is all some crazy attempt at advertising and you can file it under "consumerist trash."

13-42-600-DEADPOO(L was too many letters.)

CHAPTER 2 FORTHCOMING. SO YOU BETTER BUILD YOURSELF A FALLOUT SHELTER.


	2. A Poolian Tragedy, Act II

In the corner:A pitiful creature, born out of maliciousness, spite, hatred and all the usual doo-dah, crawling through the infinite sludge of odious self-pity, eyes on a stalk, trying to look out at the world to find a compatriot: Lo and behold! He is crawling towards your manifestation in this realm of needless opprobrium, which is a figure in a Red suit, a familiar Harlequin: We shall call him Redpool, his real name being the consecrated property of Messrs. Marvel and Co; and We shall use him as a means to vent our anger and fury at yon hapless gathering of the "Real" you-folk, because We are the Keepers of the Keys of The Prime Valets of The Keepers of The Universe, and we are known in more dignified circles as "The Cypriotic-Douchefolk", and We do as We please.

POOL:Er, Guv, don't mean to interrupt, but _you're_the-

PITIABLE CREATURE BORN OUT OF MALICIOUSNESS, SPITE, AND ALL THE USUAL DOO-DAH (PCBOMSUDD):Shut your evil, evil Pie-Hole!

POOL:That's Plagiarism. You're Pla-Gia-Rising.

PCBOMSUDD:Indeed, Who but YOU shall know all about that vile act of miserable miserableness?

POOL:I dunno... T.S. Eliot? Dan Brown? The Beatles?

PCBOMSUDD:Cease thy vile Douchebaggery!

POOL:Don't blame me. I'm just a stupid facade created out of a deep-seated apprehension of society and grave psychsocial disorders born out of a perceived cultural hegem-

PCBOMSUDD:There are grave instabilities in the Litero-temporal continuum, and these must be fixed.

POOL:... yeah, nothing like that to take the steam out of an argument. Phocking Slug.

PCBOMSUDD:The fragile Card Castle of Fiction is collapsing, and you must be the one to fix it!

POOL:So you're just a needless plot device? Ooo, I bet you're gonna be played by Ryan Reynolds in the movie.

PCBOMSUDD:This is the Message from The Elder Gods, Which They Wanted Me To Bring To You... My Assignment is More... Personal.

POOL:I'm not sure your currency is all that valuable where I live-

PCBOMSUDD:OUR ERSTWHILE COMPATRIOT, TORVALD HELMER, MAY HIS NAME BURN IN THE FIRES OF KIERKEGAARD, HAS DARED BETRAY THE FINE PRINCIPLES UPON WHICH OUR NATION HAS BEEN BUILT, AND JOINED THE ENEMY! HE-

POOL:Oooo, _enemy!_This is a regular LOTR, this is! Oh, and can you be just a _teensy_bit quiter? The Micro-Organisms living in my Left Ear are rather fussy 'bout their rent, and i don't wanna give 'em any more excuses-

PCBOMSUDD:Why do you insist on prattling when there are such grave matters of state to be discussed?

POOL:Discussed... now THAT'S a strange word. The way the "Cuss" fits in between the Di and the Ed... always raised the suspicions of my finer insticts, it did.

PCBOMSUDD:Your instincts... are sentient?

POOL:Sentinels? Nah, i don't do Robot-jobs. Find some other Hitman. If i may rec-

PCBOMSUDD:THIS IS GOING NOWHERE!

POOL:That is an extremely valid criticism. Point duly noted. Will be fixed in later editions of this note. Not that there are going to be any.

PCBOMSUDD:YOU MUST FACILITATE TORVALD HELMER'S JOURNEY TO KIERKEGAARD!

POOL:AGAIN with the shouting! I- Hey, waitaminute- Torvald Helmer, isn't that the guy from-

PCBOMSUDD:OUR GOD IS PRE-OCCUPIED! INFACT, HE'S GONE BONKERS! HE IS WAITING FOR SOMEONE HE CALLS ESTRAGON, SOMEONE WHO OBVIOUSLY DOES NOT EXIST IN OUR PLANE... AND THIS IS JUST _OUR_DIMENSION! ALL OF THE MULTIVERSE IS UNDER ATTACK! ONLY YOU CAN SAVE IT! ONLY YOU CAN BE THE HERO WE NEED, BUT GODOT KNOWS, WE DON'T DESERVE-

POOL:Does that mean I won't be getting paid for this?

PCBOMSUDD:Name your price. But first, here are the details of your assignment.

POOL (LOOKING UP):Whassamatter? Ran outta steam? Can't write no more? Nature Beckons? That's what you get for the slaughter of all those innocent lambs, slaughtered just to feed your monstrous apetite-

THE VOICE OF THE DOUCHEBAG: ARE YOU QUITE DONE WITH SHOWING OFF YOUR SKILL AT BREAKING THE FOURTH WALL? THAT WAS RHETORICAL. DON'T ANSWER THAT. RATHER, TAKE A HINT. YOU KNOW WHY YOUR LATEST SERIES IS SUCH A COLOSSAL FAILURE? WELL, PART OF IT IS BECAUSE DANIEL WAY SUCKS, I MEAN, LIKE, SERIOUSLY, HORRENDOUSLY, HORRIBLIFICOUSLY SUCKS, BUT IT'S ALSO BECAUSE YOU JUST DON'T KNOW WHEN TO TAKE A HINT! YOU HEAR THAT? THIS IS THE VOICE OF CRUSHING CONDEMNATION FROM ABOVE, THE VOICE THAT MAKES OPTIMISTS AND DEEPAK CHOPRA COMMIT SUICIDE! AND I'M SUPPOSED TO BE YOUR BIGGEST FAN! I-

POOL:Yeah, up yours, too, buddy.

PCBOMSUDD:Quick, look at this! This is the case history:

Refer A Poolian Tragedy, Act I

POOL:Nah, that's just self-advertising.

_In a galaxy far, far away, the Litero-Temporal instability continues to grow... Can our intrepid adventurers, our selfless Heroes, save the day?_

_Well, probably not, but stay tuned for the next installment anyway._

CURTAINS.

YES.

THAT'S IT.

END.

FULLSTOP.

FIN.

PERIOD.

NO, REDPOOL, YOU CANNOT MAKE A JOKE ON THAT.


End file.
